


running on empty

by visserhandcuffs



Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 10:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24848308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/visserhandcuffs/pseuds/visserhandcuffs
Summary: Allie Pressman's life has never been conventional. With her parents on the run from the FBI for a politically motivated attack, she has spent her life as different people - changing her identity every few months to accomidate for her parents and their safety. And she was content, or at least she was until meeting Harry Bingham. The one person who has managed to change her perspective on life.
Relationships: Harry Bingham/Allie Pressman, Kelly Aldrich/Becca Gelb, Sam Eliot/Gareth "Grizz" Visser
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	1. 01

**Author's Note:**

> Based on Running on Empty (1988)

Allie Pressman was used to this by now. It had been happening for as long as she could remember and although she knew how to deal with it, it still scared her. Thinking this might be the day they'd be outsmarted, the day they take a wrong turn and fall right into a trap. Nevertheless, she cast her mind back to the countless drills and escapes her parents had cemented into her head for years. They always had an escape route in mind, no matter where they were or how far away they were from each other, they knew what to do.

She knew it was happening when she caught the sight of the blacked out car in the corner of her eye. It was the same old story; the dark navy paint, the tinted windows and the feds in the front seats. You'd think they'd make it less obvious that were onto the Pressmans. Except they weren't the Pressmans right now, they were the Johnsons. Henry and Susan Johnson and their two daughters, Katie and Ellie. 

Allie wasn't too fond of this temporary identity. The name too closely resembled her own, almost like it was mocking her, and only confused her more than a completely different name would have. She was almost relived that the car was tailing her because that meant Ellie Johnson was no more. Within the next few days, she will have moved onto being someone else. She didn't know who, but she did know that it certainty wouldn't be Allie Pressman.

Allie tried to steady her heartbeat as she walked down the street. The car was creeping behind her, staying a decent distance away from her with slow revs. It's like they thought she was stupid or something, like she didn't know they were following her. This worked to her advantage though, if she stayed calm and didn't let on that she knew they were there, she could execute her plan without a hitch.

After all, it wasn't her they were after, they couldn't do anything to her. 

Jim and Amanda Pressman, however, were the ones they'd been chasing since Allie was a baby. They had always had a reputation of being so-called troublemakers, generally strong-willed and having what others would refer to as extreme views. Activists for things that seemed to be before their time; things that their parents thought would never become common issues. From a modern standpoint, it seemed ridiculous that advocating for issues such as LGBTQ+ rights and anti-racism would ever be such debatable topics, but it was something that gave them a bad rep back in the day. Their parents and other adults calling them extremists or anarchists for advocating for basic rights.

They got married pretty early, almost right out of high school, and then Cassandra came along unexpectedly, and then Allie the next year. They were happy for a while; living in a shoe-box apartment in Brooklyn while Jim worked two jobs to keep them afloat. They didn't have much, but it was enough for them. They were young and in love, and that's all that really mattered.

Attending and arranging protests on weekends was Amanda's passion back then, even when nine months pregnant she'd still be on the front line. And New York was a progressive city, there was always a good turnout. They began to meet people who were like them, people who didn't judge them for their views, and maybe they got a little caught up in that.  
After 9/11 everything changed. The city that never sleeps became increasingly paranoid. The atmosphere was thick and dense when they walked down the street, the whole city was scared. Jim always remembered seeing the cloud of smoke rising in the air as he rushed to get to his second job, the other pedestrians stopping in the middle of the street and staring, even crying upon hearing the news and seeing the damage. Hearing the screeching of the fire engines hurtling down the street towards the site. Huddling around the tv with his coworkers once he finally made it to work and watching everything go down. It was the most terrified he'd been in his life because he had a newborn baby at home to protect.

And that was when New York City began to turn. With the threat to national security now looming, the city seemed to have regressed a good few years. Racism was back on the rise, citizens blaming minorities for the events — shouting at them on the streets and telling them to go back to their own country (even though this was their country). The hostility had never been more apparent. Jim and Amanda attended several anti-racism and anti-islamophobia protests during that time, but the numbers were never great. Not enough to make a difference anyway. They needed to take more drastic measures if they really wanted to make a statement, and that's exactly what they did.

It was a windy night in 2002 when they decided to blow up the arms factory. They had a few friends over - Jeff and Diana, a young couple from their protesting group - and were watching scenes from the current war in Afghanistan. A war which everyone in room was opposed to, not just because of their pacifism, but believing it to be unwinnable, draining public funds and creating unnecessary hostility in an already hostile country. Jeff had a wild glint in his eye as he put forward the proposition. At first, Amanda scoffed at him, believing he had gone mad, but heard him out nonetheless. He told them that he was in contact with a janitor there, another anti-war radical who had lost his brother in combat a month before, that could give them access to the building. They could get in and out without suspicion and plant explosives, within seconds the whole building would go up in flames and millions of dollars worth of military weapons would be destroyed. No one would be hurt, the only person that was supposed to be there would be the janitor himself, and with the correct heads up he could get out unscathed. It was a crazy plan, but both Jim and Amanda had an inclination that this might actually change something. As long as they were thoughtful about the whole thing and made sure no one would get hurt, they'd be okay, right? They'd be able to make a difference, maybe help put a stop to an otherwise pointless war. And that's the only reason why they agreed — to make a better safer world for their two girls.

Of course, things didn't go exactly to plan. But then again, when did things normally go the way you planned them? Maybe that's something they should've thought about before they went ahead it. If they had taken a few more minutes to think it over, their children wouldn't have grown up in the way they did. Maybe they wouldn’t be two of the most wanted people in America.

The night started without a hitch, Jim and Jeff managed to get inside and plant the explosives while the girls keep watch of the security guards at the front of the building to make sure they didn't catch onto what was happening inside. Amanda bit her nails in anticipation, not wanting her husband to end up in federal jail, or her kids to grow up without a father. It was too late to go back though even if she wanted to. The men returned and they pressed the big red button on their remote, the building bursting into flames almost instantly. The cloud of smoke rose high into the air, all the gun powder from the gun going up into flames from inside. They watched as the security guards got the fright of their lives, falling to the ground and covering themselves with their hands in response. They were far enough away from the blast to not be scathed; Amanda made sure of that beforehand. Jeff grinned, whereas the rest of them stayed with their mouths dropped open. In complete disbelief that they actually pulled off such a thing.

Their relief was short lived though. The next morning when Amanda woke up to the sound of Allie screaming in her cot, she woke up to multiple voicemails from Diana. Diana who demanded that she turn on the TV set right away. Amanda did as she was told, bouncing Allie in one arm and reaching for the remote with the other. Her heart dropped to her feet as the screen filled with the sight of the arms factory — scorched and surrounded by reporters. It took her a second to process the words of the reporter on screen - a redhead woman wearing a plaid suit - but when a picture of Jeff flashed on the screen, she knew they were in trouble. Apparently, he had been arrested and that they were questioning him to find others involved.

Another picture flashed on the screen, a cropped picture of bald man smiling, obviously taken from a family portrait. That's when Amanda knew that she had been screwed over. It was the janitor; the one Jim was in close contact with. The one who she hadn't actually met but had been told of his meetings with Jim, she recognised his name. Arnold Alvarado. The reported continued, tears filling Amanda's eyes as she spoke. She picked up a few words deceased, murdered, burned, and she knew that she was responsible. They all were. Jim had set them up for not only arson, but murder.

It didn't take her long to wake up Jim and grab the kids. They drove all day, trying to get as far away from New York as they could with the sinking feeling in their stomachs. They settled somewhere new, changing their names and dying their hair as word spread throughout the country of their involvement. They got help from other anti-war activists to start fresh and keep their identities under wraps, and it had worked. Now, seventeen years later, they were still managing to keep their family safe.

Allie slowed as she approached her neighbours' house. The Changs were almost never home during the day, the Pressmans barely saw them at all, so cutting through their back yard didn't faze Allie at all. It would throw the feds off their scent and she could jump the fence into their backyard, alert Cassandra and disappear through the woods at the back of the house. Easy as that. It’s not like she hasn’t done it millions of times before. 

She lands on the flower bed as she jumps over, crushing half a dozen tulips with her boots. At the kitchen window she knocks to alert Cassandra, SOS in morse code. And with that, Cassandra bursts out the back door, tying her hair into a high ponytail — she means business. She pulls a flip phone from her back pocket, a burner hidden in the kitchen for emergencies like this and dials a number effortlessly from her memory.

They begin walking while the phone rings, speeding walking through the overgrown backyard, they've got no time to waste. Their only concern is getting off the property as quickly as they can, even if that means leaving all of their possessions behind them. They never got attached to anything, really. 

"Hello Mr. Foster! It's Katie, Henry's daughter, how are you today?" Cassandra talks into the phone with an over-exaggeratedly polite voice. That's why she gets to do the phone calls. She’s too good at faking it, she’d be a good public service worker for sure. 

Mr. Foster is Jim's current boss at the library. Their father stacks shelves mostly; it doesn't pay much but it's not even close to the worst job he's had. He's a nice guy, tall with broad shoulders and always happens to be wearing a bow tie, that is relatively easy to manipulate into getting off the clock early. The perfect boss to leave in the middle of the day and never come back.

"It's so glad to hear that!" She fake-enthuses into the phone.

"Actually, I wanted you to pass a message onto my dad for me. I was checking the family calendar and he actually has a dentist appointment at—" She checks her wristwatch for the time to adjust her lie accordingly. "—two o'clock that I think he's forgotten about. Could you remind him for me? You know, he's always forgetting this sort of stuff."

Allie rolls her eyes at Cassandra's natural charm. She's always been so much better at this than Allie has.

"Okay, thank you so much," she smiles as they jump the back fence into the woods without so much as a quiver in her voice. "Have a great day!"

She flips the phone shut and drops it onto the ground, crushing it with her foot until it's nothing more than a pile of plastic and glass shards. It's like second nature at this point, the destroying of every piece of evidence that might trace back their parents. It's just what they've always had to do. Most kids their age are strangely attached to all of their possessions, especially their phones, but they’ve had to learn not to be.

Cassandra's voice drops a few octaves as she turns her head back to Allie. "I'm so glad we're getting out of this goddamn town."

——

Jim Pressman is waiting for them in the parking lot of the library when they arrive, stood slumped against their dark green minivan. The most suburban vehicle you can get, if you ask Allie. Without a word, they all jump in and make their way to the hairdressing salon on Main Street. Amanda has been working there for a while as a receptionist, sometimes, if she's lucky, she gets to wash hair too. It's fair to say, she doesn't like her job as much a Jim does. She'll be as thrilled as the girls to get out of North Carolina. It has been a long time coming even if they’ve only lived there for three months. 

They pick Amanda up and head out onto the backroads of town, the highway is too obvious. It's insane how normal it feels to them, running from the FBI and all. The kids they meet at the various schools they go to wouldn't dream of having a life like theirs, but this is normality.

——

The next few days are all about waiting, crossing a few state borders and hiding in their crappy motel room, waiting for their contacts to find somewhere for them to go. New identities to be. They prepare for that early on, getting new haircuts on the first night at the motel. It's probably Allie's least favourite part of it all, the constant changing of her looks. Luckily this time she doesn't have to dye her naturally blonde hair, Amanda decides that cutting bangs is enough for her this time around. One perk of her working in a hair salon for the last few months is that she's picked up a few tips and Allie doesn't think her hair looks as bad as it could be. Still strange though.   
She wonders how she’d have her hair if she could just be Allie. It's hard to have a sense of identity when you're constantly having to change everything about yourself. She doesn't even know who Allie Pressman is at this point.

Cassandra is next, getting her hair cut into a shoulder-length bob. It actually suits her and her mature attitude towards life. Sometimes Allie thinks that she was born as a thirty-five-year-old woman. Cassandra seems to have everything together, whereas Allie... not so much. She just manages to take everything in her stride, something her younger sister is envious of.

Amanda has the most drastic change; she gives herself a pixie cut (with Cassandra’s help). Allie has always thought a lot of her mother, but she looks even more badass now. She almost wishes she had gotten one herself now. Well, there's always next time, isn’t there?

Jim shaves his beard into a thick moustache and calls it a day, it's just that easy. Facial hair changes everything.

Since their pictures (or at least just Jim and Amanda's) are in the newspaper and on TV, it's vital that their appearances change as soon as possible. They couldn't imagine how embarrassing it would be to get caught out in a motel after all their lucky escapes.

——

Within a few days, they arrive in the town of West Ham, Connecticut with nothing more than a beat-up minivan and a couple of new names. It's a nice town, picturesque, the type of town Jim and Amanda would turn their nose up at in their hay day. It's smaller than most of the other towns they've been in, a classic close-knit colonial town full of red brick mansions and flashy cars. It's almost intimidating to Allie to do so little as drive through town in their new (but definitely used) van.

Their new house is on the outskirts of town, where all the smaller and definitely cheaper houses are. There's minimal furniture inside, but it's enough to make do. Because that's all they really have to do, make do for a few months before moving again. It's a vicious cycle, really.

Allie and Cassandra share a room like they normally do, a pair of single beds and nothing much else. They're just happy that it isn't bunkbeds anymore. Arguing over who gets the top bunk is exhausting, only for the winner to become miserable within the first couple of weeks and beg to swap. Another vicious cycle.

Allie slept well that night. She didn't get anxious about starting at new schools anymore and West Ham High was no different. Sure, dealing with snooty rich kids was going to be annoying, but it's not like she hadn't been through worse. The fact that almost everything in her life was temporary meant that didn't have many superficial fears like that that. She just went day to day acting like nothing mattered because, to be honest, nothing she did meant anything. She was a million different people at once.

——

"Name?" The receptionist pushed her glasses further up her room as she glared at Allie and Cassandra. The room was stuffy, and Allie was sweating from underneath her sweater.

They had been in West Ham High School for all of two minutes and it already felt like the whole place was out to get them. The strange looks from students, the hostile staff and the weirdly fancy school building all culminated into their discomfort. She wasn’t normally excited to start at a new school, but she definitely wasn’t thrilled about this one. 

"I'm Chloe Brown and this is my sister Ava," Cassandra says, her fake polite voice back. It almost always comes back when she's talking to adults like this. "I'm a senior and she's a junior."

It's almost funny how they get their names, just the most generic first and last names you can think of put together. Unmemorable and, most importantly, almost untraceable. As under the radar as you could possibly get.

The receptionist turns around, her floor-length skirt swishing as she goes, and grabs a couple of files from the table behind her. She flicks through them and Allie swallows hard knowing what she’s about to say. It’s the same old story, but she still doesn’t want it to backfire against them. 

"We appear to be missing a few of your records. Your old school hasn't sent anything over to us," she says, raising her eyebrow at them.

"That's odd," Cassandra takes charge like she always seems to do. "I think they're on spring break right now, maybe no one is in the school to send them over."

The receptionist sucks in a breath through her teeth, not quite convinced by her, but too tired to argue with an eighteen-year-old at this time in the morning. Especially if it’s Cassandra. 

"Will it affect our enrolment?" Allie speaks up.

"No, you're registered to this school now. We just need your records for college applications and such." She picks up two pieces of paper from the desk and hand them over to them. Their schedules. "We've got you arranged for a tour with one of our finest students. You'll be in good hands with Mr. Bingham over there." 

She motions behind them to a row of seats. A brunette boy is sitting there, one leg crossed over the other, all legs and thick brown hair. He's dressed smarter than Allie had ever seen another student dress for a normal day of school before. Maybe he takes the tour really seriously or maybe he just dresses like a douche daily with his dress shirt and boat shoes. Classic rich boy.

He pushes himself up from the chair, making his way over to them with confidence in his step. "Hey, I'm Harry."

He's oddly formal, reaching out to shake Cassandra's hand. She stares at it for a second, her eyes flickering up to his — testing him. He offers her a small smile and she shakes it hesitantly. Harry doesn't try to do the same with Allie after her sister's hostility, he simply shoots her an understanding look. Almost like he's mocking her sister already. Okay, maybe he's not as bad as she thought.

"You guys ready for the tour?"

"Actually, I think we're good." Cassandra shrugs her shoulders. Fraternising with other students had never been here thing. Not just for safety purposes, but just preference. "I'd rather just find my own way around. Thanks for the offer though."

"That's no problem at all." Harry's voice is weak, almost offended by that. Even though he wasn't thrilled about showing them around either. 

Harry Bingham had never been one to be openly disliked. Behind his back, sure. But even the fakest of people normally sucked up to him when he was there. After all, he was the most popular guy in school and his mom was the mayor. Going against Harry is like social suicide in West Ham.

She turns to Allie quickly, trying to exit the situation as quickly as possible. "I'm going to find my home room. See you at lunch?"

"Okay, see you then."

Once Cassandra leaves, an awkward silence falls between Harry and Allie. She pulls her lips into a tight line to try and cancel out her sister’s hostility. Harry studies her face closely.

"I don't think your sister likes me very much,” He states, and Allie can’t exactly argue. Harry seems like the exact type of person Cassandra can’t stand. Overachiever, overly confident – so anyone similar to her, really. 

"She's not much of a people person." She shrugs.

"And what about you?"

She raises an eyebrow at him, confused. "Am I a people person?"

"No, do you like me?"

"I don't know you." Scoffing, Allie releases a small chuckle. Talk about being desperate for validation. 

A smirk rises to his face. "Well, how about that tour then?"

There’s something charming about Harry; the way he presents himself, the gleam in his eye as he looks at her. And that’s the only reason why Allie agrees.


	2. 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Running on Empty (1988)

"—and that's where Clark choked on his pen lid and had to get the Heimlich maneuver from Mr. Roberts in sophomore year."

Harry's tour is... interesting, to say the least. Allie doesn't know who Clark is or what his deal is, but so far, she's heard at least three stories from Harry about his shenanigans. West Ham High School has a variety of interesting characters from what Allie can tell. And that's just Harry's friends.

Harry who has managed to show Allie around the entire school before the bell rings. He's a quick walker like he's on a mission or something. Another observation of hers is that he seemed to know everyone. Various students greeting him upon noticing him and his quick hellos to almost every member of staff. It's like he runs the school. Allie was starting to think that he did.

His demeanor isn't as overbearing as she thought — he wasn't as similar to Cassandra as she had first thought. Sure, he's confident and well-spoken, but he's kind of funny too. Cracking jokes the whole time to make her feel more comfortable. It's nice. Refreshing even. Not a lot of people make a conscious effort to do so.

Harry scratches his head as they circle back to Allie's homeroom, trying to find something to say. The bell is supposed to ring at any second, indicating that he's off-duty, but he doesn't want to say goodbye to Allie quite yet.

"Hey," he begins, clearing his throat. "Do you want my number or something? You know, just in case you have any questions."

"I don't have a cell phone." She folds her arms against her chest. 

"Aren't you like seventeen?"

Harry raises an eyebrow at her, trying to figure out if she's actually being serious. Either that or she's just saying that to turn him down gently. Of course, she is telling the truth, because she could get tracked on a cell phone. And that's not something they can afford. Although, her father has a burner flip phone for emergencies only, not that he'd let her use it to call Harry up.

"My parents aren't into that sort of thing. They're more into, you know, family bonding. Actually looking up from your phone for two seconds to look at the world around you." There's an air of sarcasm to her voice, something Harry picks up immediately.

He shakes his head and releases a chuckle. "Do you do everything your parents tell you to?"

Allie doesn't know how to answer that. Now that's she's think of it, she does. Every decision she's ever made in her life has been influenced by the position her parents put her in. But, of course, she can't tell Harry that, so instead she flips it on him. "Do you?"

"Well, my dad has been in the ground for months now, and my mom doesn't care. I don't really have that choice, do I?"

Allie is taken aback by his bluntness. There's a lot to unpack before she can even begin to think about responding to him. Harry stares back at her, a blank look in his eyes. He doesn't look upset, but he doesn't look fine either. Maybe numb would be the best word to use.

"I-I'm sorry," she manages, but the rest of her words fall flat.

"Don't be."

The sound of the school bell ringing gives her a lucky escape from the crushing awkwardness she had began to feel. 

"I'll see you later," she tells him before turning on her heel and heading into her homeroom. She doesn't wait for Harry's response; she just rushes through the doorway.

Since she entered the room the second the bell rang, she's the first one in which lets her pick her seat. This is always intimidating, in case there's already an official seating plan or if someone is just really particular about where they sit, but she slides into a desk in the back corner of the room. She dumps her backpack on the floor and waits as the students begin to pile into the room.

Her first impression of her classmates is that they're loud, laughing, and chatting amongst themselves even at this time in the morning. How does anyone have that much energy?

Well, everyone except a petite girl who sits down at the desk next to Allie's. She groans, dropping her backpack onto the table before taking a sip from her coffee cup. Definitely not a morning person, which is something Allie can respect.

The brunette runs her hand through her thick hair before catching Allie's eye. She offers the girl a polite smile, feeling her stomach tighten.

"I love your jacket." The girl tells her, returning the smile.

Allie looks down at her thrifted denim jacket. It's a good find, she'll give her mother that. Something about leaving everything behind when they leave each place is that she's always getting new clothes. Half of the time she doesn't even know what she's wearing. Her mom always takes a trip to the local thrift store to get them some clothes. Sometimes they get decent stuff, but a lot of the time she has to make do with old fashioned clothes that someone had probably died in. The jacket in question is one of the better finds. It's fine though because thrift stores are actually a cool place to shop nowadays, whereas when they were younger, they'd get teased for what they wore.

"Thanks." She pulls out the last sound, trying to think of something to continue the conversation. Allie had never been great at small talk. Her eyes settle on the girl's jeans, daisies are painted all over the pant legs. "Your jeans are really cool, did you do them yourself?"

"I did! Thanks for noticing." She rolls her eyes. "Every time I wear these, the assholes in this school say it looks like a toddler scribbled all over my pants."

Allie can't help but laugh in response. Not maliciously or anything, just a giggle to herself.

"I'm Becca, by the way."

"Ava," she gulps.

Allie always has a conscious fear of saying the wrong name, even though this one and Ava's birthdate have been drilled into her head for the last couple of days. Their parents repeatedly ask them those questions at home, just to make sure, trying to catch them off guard. It's better than some stranger, to be honest.

———

The first half of the day goes smoothly, although Allie is still counting down the minutes to lunch. Becca invites her to sit with her and her friends at lunch and she's quick to take her up on that offer.

The two hit it off in homeroom, Becca giving her a rundown of the school; the teachers not to mess with, the people to avoid, and her opinions on basically everything. Allie appreciates how open she is, it makes her feel more comfortable at the school. They also happened to be in the same algebra class second period which helped massively since Allie didn't know what the teacher was talking about half the time. Math is one subject that seems to differ from school to school, so she's always on her toes trying to learn new tips and tricks to keep her from flunking.

She hands a five-dollar bill over to the lunch lady with a polite smile before scouting the cafeteria for Cassandra — to inform her that she'll be eating lunch with Becca instead.

She hears her sister's voice before anything, even in the loud cafeteria. Cassandra just has that presence in the room. She always has.

"If you'd just leave your notes here, I'll hand them back to you later. You don't have to be here!"

There's clear annoyance in Cassandra's voice as Allie approaches, the annoyance only Harry Bingham could bring. And that's exactly who is sitting across the table from her, leaning over a binder full of paper, scribbled handwriting filling up every blank space.

"I'm not leaving you alone with these! I'm trying to get into Yale, I need all the help I can get." Harry shoots back at her quickly. They really are a good match; instant resentment is hard to find, yet somehow, they've done it. And so flawlessly, too.

"You're kidding." Cassandra rolls her eyes at him as she scribbles onto her paper.

"What? Where are you going to college, Chloe?" He's being condescending, of course. She stays silent for a second, trying to make it seem like she's too involved in her studies to hear him. "Are you even going to college?"

"Do you know how many successful people don't have college degrees? Does the name Bill Gates mean anything to you?"

Allie has reached their table by this point but is enjoying watching it all unfold so doesn't interrupt.  
"Yeah, like bus drivers," Harry scoffs, taking a drink from his water bottle. "The difference is, Bill Gates was actually smart enough to get into Harvard in the first place."

"You're such an asshole, you know that, right? Just because you have enough money to get into an Ivy League school doesn't make you better than anyone—"

Allie decides that this is the right time to intervene — before Cassandra bites his head off. She slams her tray down on the table beside her sister, interrupting her mid-sentence.

Harry's eyes soften as he looks up at the blonde, forgetting about the argument almost immediately. The only reason he agreed to give Cassandra his history notes was so he could see Allie again at lunch. And, it's not like he had anywhere else to be.

Despite his general popularity, Harry didn't really have a best friend. Someone to depend on and cling to at any time. That just wasn't something he had in his life. It was kind of sad that the closest thing he had to a best friend was his ex-girlfriend Kelly, who really stepped up to help him out after his father's death — only for him to break up with her a month or so afterward. Sure, he had some of the guys to hang out with - Grizz, Luke, Clark, Jason, and Campbell, to be precise - but nothing more than getting drunk and getting into trouble together. Even something small like eating lunch with the jocks or going off-campus with Campbell to smoke a blunt during their free period felt like he was overstaying his welcome most of the time.

Whereas he and Allie seemed to hit it off right away. Or at least he hoped so. Judging by the shy smile she throws his way, he's pretty sure he's right.

"I'm going to eat lunch with one of the girls I met earlier, that okay?" She asks her sister, who sneaks a french fry off her plate before getting back to work. Most of the time they stick together at new schools, so Allie feels bad to abandon her sister like this.

"Sure, have fun!" Cassandra replies without so much as looking up from her notes.

She's never been one to chat away while studying, unlike Allie who is the greatest procrastinator in the world and will speak about literally anything to get out of doing work.

Allie's eyes flicker back to Harry who is leaning on his hand, looking bored as hell as Cassandra dissects his notes. He offers her a small smile and she returns the favour.

With a smirk on her face, she says, "You guys play nice, okay?" and turns on her heel to go.

——

Becca's friends are pretty cool.

There's Sam who is Becca's official best friend, a sweet redhead who is kind of shy but funny — especially when he's poking fun at Becca. And then there's Kelly who is like a ball of sunshine; pretty fiery but lights up any room she's in. They balance Becca out so perfectly and laugh through the entirety of lunch.

"So, Ava," Kelly begins, trying to make Allie feel more involved. "Tell us about yourself. I mean, you've listened to us ramble on about ourselves all lunch, our egos can only get so big."

She's right, they have been talking about themselves. Not in a bad way, but just casually talking with friends about your life. Sam complaining about his older brother Campbell, Becca complaining about her mom, and Kelly complaining about life in general — exactly the type of things you share with friends.

Becca grunts, her mouth filled with salad. "Right! I'm sorry about that."

This is where Allie wants to freeze up, but she can't afford to. The only things she really has to lie about are names and places, although it still feels dishonest. Becca and her friends had been so open and welcoming all day; it feels unfair that she has to lie to them.

"I don't know, my life isn't very interesting." She shrugs her shoulders. "I've really just lived in Texas my whole life. Nothing exciting, just my sister and I slowly driving my parents insane."

Sam begins to sign something, talking as he goes. "Why did you move to West Ham?"

She didn't really have anything to say to that. She blinked at Sam for a second, his jaw slackening as he waited for an answer.

"Just a change of scenery, I guess."

Before anyone can reply, a tall boy with shaggy hair and a varsity jacket comes over to their table. He plants a kiss on Sam's cheek as he sits down. Allie's jaw drops a little at the sight of them together, an openly gay couple in a conservative little town like this was almost unheard of to her. It was a breath of fresh air.

"Hey, Grizz!" Becca enthuses from across the table. "Have you met Ava yet?"

"Oh no, I haven't yet," Grizz says, running his hand through his hair. He turns to her, a warm smile spreading across his face. "I'm Grizz. I'm, uh, Sam's boyfriend."

Allie watches as heat spreads across Sam's face after Grizz says that. It's obviously pretty new, their whole thing, or maybe just new knowledge to others. Either way, it's kind of adorable to see them blushing away like that.

"It's nice to meet you."

By this point, Sam is digging in his backpack for something. He pulls out a book and puts it on the table in front of Grizz; a beat-up copy of Lord of the Flies.

Grizz's face lights up. "You finished it?" he signs along to his words.

Allie can't help but appreciate how everyone at the table has made an effort to accommodate Sam's disability; they all know how to sign. It's really sweet to see.

"I stayed up until three last night to finish it."

"And you wrote notes for me?"

"I did." Sam grins at him, but he's too busy flicking through the pages to read Sam's thoughts. There's something undeniably sweet about writing in someone else's book, even if it is technically vandalism.

Becca releases a groan, a teasing smile on her face. "You guys make me sick."

"Hey, come on!" Kelly nudges her with her elbow. "Leave them alone, they're in love."

"Love is disgusting."

Allie joins in, wanting to reinsert herself into the conversation. "Come on, Becca. Don't you have a special someone in your life?"

A dense silence falls between them, everyone's eyes dropping down to the table and their lips tightening into a line. Allie's palms begin to sweat. "Did I say something wrong? Becca, I'm sor—"

Becca shakes her head, trying to fight back a grin. "No, you're fine. It's just that I am kind of seeing someone right now, but you can't tell anyone, okay?"

Allie's eyes fall on Kelly whose face is suddenly bright red. She's biting her lip, trying to stop herself from giggling.

Allie's jaw drops for real this time. "You guys are hooking up?"

"Sort of."

"No way!" She whispers excitedly. "Why does everyone at this school have exciting love lives except me?"

"Pace yourself there, it's only your first day."

——

Allie scrubbed the remains of spaghetti off her plate. It was her turn to do the dishes, and honestly, she didn't mind at all. She wondered if kids like Harry were aware that chores existed at all.

Dinner had been nice; Jim had brought back their dinner from his new job at the Italian restaurant on Main Street and it was decent quality. They spoke about their days for a while, like they always did. Allie told them all about Becca and her friends, and Cassandra complained about her lunch with Harry (even though she got pretty good notes out of it). Amanda was preparing for her job interview at city hall the next morning, just as a receptionist, of course. Even though the irony of Amanda Pressman working in a municipal building was laughable because of everything she stood for.

Allie spaced out for a while as she scrubbed the dishes clean, thinking about her day. It was definitely one of the better first days of schools she's had, maybe even the best. Hitting it off with Becca and all her friends was rare for her. And then there was Harry... he seemed pretty cool too. She was actually looking forward to the next school day, for once in her life.

She's brought back to earth by the presence of a hand on her shoulder. Turning around, she meets her mother's eyes and smiles.

"What are you thinking about, honey?"

Most kids in this position would normally deny they were even thinking at all or make up some excuse to not share whatever they were feeling with their parents, but it had never been like that in the Pressman household. Her parents were the only constant in her life, she had to be honest with them or she'd simply go insane. Lying was always saved for other people — everyone else, really.

"I like it here," she says, sighing because she knows she shouldn't get too attached. "I really like it, and I'm scared that it's going to hurt when we leave."

Amanda sucks in a breath through her teeth. "It always hurts, Allie. It hurts that your dad and I can't provide you guys with a stable life, and it's going to hurt when we have to pry you away from the first place you feel at home."

All Allie can do is shake her head.

"I wish everything was different," Amanda continues. "You know that, right?"

"Of course, I do."

She squeezes her daughter’s shoulder again and turns to go, but Allie stops her.

"Do you regret it?" She asks without even thinking. It had been a question she wanted to ask her mother for years, but this is the only time she's worked up the courage. "What you guys did?"

"Do I regret sticking up for the people who needed it? No, I don't. You don't know what it was like, Allie. Everyone was so hostile and racist, I couldn't sit back and let it tear the country apart." She pauses for a second, releasing an exhausted sigh. "With that being said, yes. I regret letting Jeff take advantage of us, and I regret not thinking about how it would affect you and your sister. I mean, this is the best-case scenario, isn't it? You guys could've been bouncing around foster homes your whole childhood while we rotted away in jail. We're lucky that we're still together, but it's still not enough."

"It hasn't been all bad, you know."

"You're right, it hasn't, but it really should've been better."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, I want to thank everyone for the love on chapter one <3  
> this chapter is more setting up, meeting other characters and such. (also establishing relationships like grizzam and bella because i love them)  
> don't worry though, next chapter there will be a LOT more hallie content!!


	3. 03

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Running on Empty (1988)

Allie shivers as she steps out onto the football field. It's a chilly day in West Ham and she's bundled up in her newly thrifted denim jacket and tartan scarf. Still, her hands feel like they're about to go numb due to the frosty breeze in the air. It's late March and the New England temperatures still aren't climbing quite yet.

Grizz waves to them from the field as Allie, Becca, Kelly, and Sam sit down on the bleachers. They're just as cold as the air, the metallic bench chilling her jeans as she sits down. All she wants to do is head home and sit in front of the wood-burning fire until she heats up, but Grizz invited them to watch his practice, and she was still trying to make a good impression on them. And it seemed to be working; this was the third day in a row that she had eaten lunch with them, and now she was hanging out with them after school to watch Grizz's football practice. Talk about progress.

Allie had little interest in what was happening on the football field - all she knew was that Grizz was killing it out there - and instead, she was more concerned about the flow of conversation going on between the others.

"Do you seriously want to go? Jason is an asshole, you are aware of that, right?" Becca asks Kelly, her eyebrow twitches in confusion. They're sitting close together, their knees touching.

"I told Helena I'd go," Kelly replies with a shrug. "It could be fun though, don't you think?"

One thing Allie has noticed is that Kelly is a lot more social than Sam and Becca. She has another group of friends, mostly girls who are dating the guys on the football team, and she goes to parties and such with that crowd. They've been intersecting for a little bit now with Grizz and Sam dating, and Kelly and Becca starting whatever is going on with them, and so now they've all got an invite to Jason's birthday party in three weeks. Allie was given an invite too - a pity invite, no doubt, but still an invite.

"Sitting around while Jason and Clark stroke each other's egos? I'm good, thanks."

"You're impossible!" Kelly sounds desperate at this point, an exasperated laugh leaving her mouth. "It's a party, it's not like you're going to be locked in a room with them. You'll be lucky if you see them at all throughout the whole night."

"You owe me one. Big time," Becca huffs, and Kelly squeals in excitement. She rolls her eyes at her overly excited friend and crosses her arms against her chest. "You're buying me booze, though. Lots of it, if you want me to get through the night."

"No problem, if it means you'll come. If it gets too lame, maybe we can go upstairs and—"

Becca cuts her off quickly. "Jesus Christ, Kelly! Ava is sitting right there!"

She's laughing, but Kelly still apologises, covering her mouth with her hands and giggling like a schoolgirl.

"Right, I'm sorry."

Kelly turns and taps Sam on the shoulder. He's too busy staring at Grizz doing his thing on the field to even realise that they've been talking for a while. He whips his head around, snapped out of his trance, and faces them.

"Are you and Grizz going to Jason's party together?" She asks him, her hands moving swiftly.

Allie has learned a few basic phrases in sign over the last few days, just from observing, but it would definitely take a while for her to figure out how to have a proper conversation.

"I think so."

He turns back to the football field again, his eyes trying to find Grizz again. And Kelly doesn't push him any further with her questions.

"Why are you guys so concerned about this now? You've got like three weeks." Allie asks, not understanding the appeal.

A party is a party, right? It's not like you need extensive planning; it isn't prom or anything crazy like that. Granted, Allie had never actually been to a party that wasn't just her and her family, so maybe she was missing something.

"Oh, Ava, Ava, Ava," Kelly tuts and shakes her head, placing her hand on Allie's knee. "I don't know what life was like for you back in Texas, but this is as exciting as it gets around here."

"That's pretty sad, isn't it?" Becca chirps in.

"I guess so," Allie replies, not that she's one to judge.

She shrugs and looks back at Kelly who looks distraught all of a sudden. Her brow is furrowed as she looks past Allie to the side of the field.

Becca does the same when she picks up on Kelly's bad vibes, only she's more vocal about it. "Why the fuck is he coming over?"

Allie turns her head to see what's going on and notices Harry striding towards them. A sudden rush of heat spreads over her face, burning against the cold air. Yet, she was confused; why did they have a negative reaction to seeing Harry? Was there something she didn't know?

"Play nice," Kelly warns Becca through gritted teeth as he finally approaches.

Harry looks timid for the first time, shoving his hands into the pockets of his tweed coat. His hair is windswept, waves turning into curls on top of his head. He smiles, "Hey, guys."

"Hey, Harry. How are things?" Kelly gives him a polite smile, but her eyes are full of concern. "How are your mom and Lucy?"

"They're alright." He takes a seat next to Allie on the bleachers, offering her a shy smile. "Lucy won her gymnastics meet last weekend, thanks to Gwen."

There's a certain tension between them that Allie can't quite put her finger on. It isn't bad, but it isn't exactly comfortable either. They obviously know each other personally enough to talk about family stuff casually, but there's still something off.

"Yeah, Gwen said that. She's one hell of a coach, don't you think?" Kelly enthuses, pulling her knees into her chest.

"Definitely, Lucy loves her."

He turns to Allie, not giving Kelly the chance to reply back. "I didn't know you were into football," he says, leaning closer to her.

Allie is taken back by how abruptly he ends his conversation with Kelly to talk to her instead. It's not like they'd even spoken since her first day at West Ham High.

"I'm just here for Grizz," she tells him, shrugging her shoulders because, honestly, she doesn't even know if she is yet. Maybe if she was watching an actual game it would be different, but seeing the team run laps and practice tackling doesn't appeal to her much.

"Right." Harry nods his head, racking his brain for something else to say. Harry Bingham was never one to be speechless, but at this moment he had lost his voice. "So, how are you liking school?"

"It's good, everyone seems pretty nice so far."

"God, you've obviously not met everyone then," he chuckles, like actually chuckles at his own joke. Although, it is generous to even call it a joke. Smooth, Harry, smooth.

Allie can feel Becca and Kelly's eyes boring into her back and she doesn't know why, yet she can't bring herself away from Harry to ask them.

"Maybe you're right about that," she pulls her lips into a tight line as she looks into his eyes. "I guess, I've just met all the right people."

"Like me?" He teases.

Allie scrunches her nose up and shakes her head, a smile spreads across her face without her even realising it. "Sorry, everyone except you."

"Damn, that really hurt." He brings his hand to his chest, pretending to be hurt. "What is it with the women in your family bullying me?"

"What did my sister do this time?"

"Just being her usual darling self," he rolls his eyes. "Did you know that she stole my notes out of my backpack just so she didn't have to ask me for them?"  
"It sounds like her, anyway." She laughs at his story because it's typical of Cassandra to do something like that.

Harry opens his mouth to say something else but is interrupted by someone calling his name from the field. It's Luke, who Allie knows exclusively as the quarterback of the football team, his arms stretched out wide.

"Harry! Are you coming or not, dude?" He shouts, his gym bag draped over his shoulder.

Allie didn't even notice that practice was over until this very moment when Luke interrupted them. But apparently, it is, Grizz is already running over to get back to Sam.

"Oh shit, yeah. Two seconds!" He shouts back at the boy on the field, turning back to Allie. "I've gotta go, but I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay." Allie bites her lip to stop herself from looking too eager by smiling because, god, she had smiled at Harry a lot in their short conversation.

When she turns back around to speak to girls again, they're looking at her like she has two heads; their brows furrowed, and mouths open ajar. Seriously, what is she missing?

"What is it?" She asks, confused as ever.

"You're getting pretty friendly with Harry, aren't you?" Becca says and Allie doesn't know whether it's a test or not.

"No, he just gave me a tour of the school on my first day. I don't even know him," she defends herself because it's true, they've only spoken three times... not that she was counting or anything. "What's wrong with him?"

"Don't listen to her," Kelly pipes in quickly. "Harry's great."

"What are you talking about? Harry's an asshole." Becca fires back, laughing.

"No, Harry tries to be an asshole. There's a difference."

"I'm sorry, Kelly, but didn't he break up with you over text?" Becca asks, and Allie finally realises the elephant in the room. They dated. Harry and Kelly. That's why things were so strange. "That sounds like an asshole move to me."

"Wait, you guys went out?" Allie asks, seeking confirmation.

"For a year and a half, yes."

"Shit, Kelly, I'm so sorry. I didn't know—" she cuts herself off. "I can stop talking to him if you want me to."

"Don't be silly!" Kelly nudges her with her elbow playfully. "Harry and I... we were never meant to be. I mean, we grew up together, so we thought that it made sense that we'd end up together, and we cared for each other, but it was never like that. We thought that a relationship would be easy because we already knew everything about each other, but we were wrong. But you, on the other hand, should go for it."

"Go for what?" She asks, playing dumb, of course. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't. A relationship was not on the cards for her, no matter how shiny Harry's hair was and how much she wanted to run her hands through it.

"Harry's dick."

"Becca!"

"What? That's what you meant, wasn't it?" Becca puts her hands up in defeat.

Becca and Kelly's witty banter was one of the things Allie liked about this school, even if they were making her blush right now. They truly were a good match. She couldn't imagine Kelly being this comfortable with Harry.

"All jokes aside," Kelly turns back to Allie, placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. "If you want to get to know Harry a little, you have my full blessing. Don't feel like you have to stay away with him because he's my ex; he and I are cool, seriously."

"Okay, thanks, but I'm really not looking for a relationship right now." She swallows.

——

It was Friday afternoon by the time Allie spoke to Harry again.

She was walking back home from school alone since Cassandra wanted to squeeze in a few hours of studying at the library before dinner. That was when she heard a car slow behind her, creeping with low revs. Her first thought, as usual, was that they had once again been found out, even if they'd only been in West Ham a week. And for the first time, she was actually disappointed that she would have to leave all of this behind.

It was the horn blasting behind her that told her otherwise. Feds wouldn't do that, they liked to be sneaky. Or at least try to be, anyway.

She turned her head towards the road to see a flashy Maserati slowing to a halt beside her. The tinted window rolled down and someone shouts out to her.

"Hey! Do you need a ride?" Harry asks one hand placed firmly on the steering wheel.

Allie hesitates for a second, and Harry jerks his head to one side inviting her to climb in. And so she does, grabbing the handle and swinging open the door.  
The inside of Harry's car smells of pine, like one of those air fresheners that she and Cassandra would spend ages in the supermarket scratching and sniffing when they were younger. It's overpowering to her nostrils as she climbs into the passenger seat and shuts the car door behind her.

"Where do you live?" He asks, his voice smooth.

"On Willow Drive."

He nods as he puts the car into drive and pulls away. He's silent, which Allie finds oddly comforting, and taps along to the soft music playing over the speakers.

"So," Allie begins, the silence starting to feel uncomfortable. "You have a nice car."

"Thanks, it's my pride and joy," he half-laughs because her small talk isn't great. "Hey, I'm sorry we couldn't talk longer the other day. I had already made plans with the guys."

She raises her eyebrow at him, confused because it wasn't like they were actually hanging out. Did he want to hang out with her?

"It's fine, I was talking to Kelly and Becca, anyway."

He's silent for a second, taking in a breath. "Did, uh, did Kelly say anything about me?"

She pauses to think, not wanting to tell him anything Kelly might've said in confidence.

"Uh, yeah. She said that you two used to date, but you guys broke up recently?" The way she says it is more of another question than an answer to his.

"Right. Did she tell you why we broke up?"

Allie furrows her brow. Why is he asking her all of this? Was he still in love with Kelly something?

"Nope."

Harry sucks in a breath through his teeth. Allie watches as his grip on the steering wheel tightens, he's stressed.

"You don't have to tell me," she says quietly. Whatever it is, she knows that it's painful for Harry to talk about.

"Her dad had an affair with my mom," he says, not a trace of emotion in his voice. "When my dad got sick, I guess she got pissed that he didn't have the energy to put out anymore, so they started sneaking around behind his back. Even after he died, they still continued it. Kelly and I, we were ones who found them hooking up at one of her mom's dinner parties in a closet of all places like they were fucking teenagers."

"Damn, I'm sorry, Harry. Really, I am." That's all she can find the words for.

Her family had never been perfect, clearly, but she always had confidence that her parents loved each other enough to stay faithful. Even when things got hard, they were always there for each other. They didn't exactly have a choice, but that didn't mean that their love meant less.

"It's fine, don't worry about it. But, yeah, that's why things between Kelly and I got... complicated, I guess," he continues, his voice small. "It was a long time coming though. After my dad died, it put everything into perspective and I realised that we were just together because it was safe and, I don't know, it was what was expected of us."

Allie changes the subject because she feels bad talking about Kelly when she isn't here. Even if everything Harry has said about her has been respectful. "Were you and your dad close?"

"Um," Harry thinks to himself for a moment, releasing a sigh. "Not before he got sick, but during, yes. He worked a lot before, so we didn't spend much time together until he couldn't work any longer. I'd go with him to all his chemo appointments and hold his hand while they stuck him with needles. He was petrified of them."

They fall silent again. Allie doesn't know what to say to that because what can she say?

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you telling me all of this?" She feels a pang in her chest as she speaks, hoping he doesn't take it the wrong way. He's basically just unloaded onto a stranger, should she be concerned?

Harry shrugs his shoulders. "Because you're listening, not everyone does that."

All Allie can do is give him an understanding smile, her eyes softening as he looks back at her. Maybe he should be looking at the road, but she's too caught up in the moment to think about that.

"So, what house is yours?" He asks and she's caught off guard, not even realising they've arrived on her street.

"The white one."

It's probably the smallest and least maintained on the street so it's a hard house to miss. It makes do, though, and that's all that really matters to them right now. From Harry's classy clothing and expensive car, she knows that his house will definitely be better than this one. Probably by a long shot.

Allie had never been one to be insecure about material possessions - except maybe clothes - but she began to squirm a little in her seat as they pulled up outside.

"Thanks for the ride," she says, grabbing her backpack from the floor. "I'll see you on Monday."

She reaches for the door handle, but Harry's voice cuts her off. "Hey, wait!"

"Yeah?" She turns her body to face him, raising her eyebrows in expectation.

He looks at her for a second, staring at her mouth. She's looking up at him through her eyelashes, and he's transfixed on her lips. The silence is deafening between them, the whole world melting around Harry for a moment. That's when he goes for it, reaching forward and kissing her lips.

To say Allie is surprised by this is an understatement. She felt the same thing Harry was feeling, but she didn't think he'd actually go for it. Now, his lips are on hers and she doesn't know how to react. It's her first kiss. First exchange with another person that was anything close to a kiss. No hand-holding, no nothing, just going jumping straight in there.

Harry pulls away as soon as he realises that she isn't kissing back. Why isn't she kissing back? He stays silent, though; he's basking in the embarrassment of making a move too soon.

Allie, chewing at her lip to stop her smile from showing, even though they're still tingling, breaks the silence. "What was that?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugs his shoulders, releasing a sigh under his breath. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't ha—"

"I should go inside." She cuts him off because she doesn't want him to apologise; it was a nice kiss, a nice first kiss.

"Right."

She goes to grab the door handle again but stops herself as her hand grazes the metal handle.

"Maybe we can hang out at some point?" she asks, hoping that she hasn't blown her shot yet.

Harry's eyes widened because he wasn't expecting that at all. He thought he had blown his chances already, but now she's asking him out. There was something mysterious about Allie that he liked, and this was just confirming that.

"My mom is having this dinner party tomorrow; it's going to be lame, but maybe you could come over? We can show face, then steal a bottle of wine and sneak upstairs." He offers, wanting to see her as soon as he can.

Allie ponders for a second. Of course, she wants to go, but it's maybe not the smartest of ideas. She's supposed to stay under the radar and being paraded around in front of Harry's mom's snooty friends probably isn't going to accomplish that. Also, an open invitation to a boy's room? She's watched enough teen dramas to know what that means.  
Yet, even though it goes against everything she has been taught her whole life, she's still intrigued. She wants to go. She wants to get to know Harry and to potentially kiss him again.

"Yeah, I'd like that." She says finally, even though her stomach is churning just thinking of what her parents will say.

"Okay, great!" Harry grins at her. "I'll pick you up at three tomorrow then."

"That would be great. I should really go now, though." She motions over her shoulder to the house; her parents are probably wondering where she is by now.

"Okay. See you tomorrow then."

"Goodbye, Harry."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello <3  
> i had so much writing this chapter so i hope you guys enjoy it too !   
> the ship is finally sailing and i'm LIVING for it   
> anyway, thanks for reading :)


	4. 04

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Running on Empty (1988)

Allie tugged at the neckline of her off-the-shoulder dress that just wasn't lying right. She shuffled it further down her shoulders until it was in a straight line over her collarbones and decided that was good enough. She checked it out in the mirror, spinning a little so the skirt of the dress swished. It was nothing fancy, just a floral summer dress that they had gotten from the thrift store, but she liked it. She felt put together.

She wondered what Harry would be wearing, worrying that she hadn't asked about the dress code the day prior. The others wouldn't be dressed like slobs, she knew that, but rich people had very specific ideas of what clothing was expected at an event; formal, smart casual, business casual, informal. She couldn't keep up, and her limited wardrobe certainly couldn't either. So, she just hoped for the best. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she was a little underdressed, right?

Grabbing a tube of lip gloss from on top of the dresser, she puckers up her lips and applies a light layer. It's slightly sticky, fusing her lips together temporarily, but she wouldn't expect any less from the dollar store.

"You look really pretty today." Amanda appears in the doorway, head tilted to get a good look at her daughter. "What's the occasion?"

Allie tightens the lip gloss tube back up and places it back down. She turns to her mother standing in the doorway, pulling her lips into a tight smile.

"Harry invited me to dinner."

Raising her eyebrows, Amanda stares back at her daughter with a confused expression. Allie knows that she has something to say about this but is holding it back. There’s just that sense of judgement in the air.

"Harry, huh?" She pauses. "Isn't that the boy from Cassandra's class?"

She nods in response. Talking about dating with their parents is awkward enough for the average teenager, but Allie's situation is different. She knew she'd be given a hard time about it, so she tried to put off the conversation for as long as possible. She had always been a little more reckless than Cassandra, after all.

"Are you sure that's a good idea, Allie?" Amanda asks, lips pursed. "I don't want you getting your heart broken when we have to leave this place."

She crosses her arms against her chest. "God, it's just some dumb dinner party. It's not like we're planning on road tripping to Vegas to elope," she half-laughs. "Don't you trust me?"

Amanda stares back at her daughter, taken aback by her question. "Of course, I trust you."

"Then what's the problem?"

"You know what the problem is, Allie," she sucks in a breath, inhaling sharply. "If you want to go, I'm not going to stop you. Just be careful, okay?"

"Aren't I always?"

Amanda shakes her head at her before she turns and walks back out of the room without another word.

Allie feels a pang of guilt in her chest. Her parents have always had her best interest at heart, but it felt exhausting at this point. She’s not dumb, they should be able to let her make her own choices sometimes.

Just one week in West Ham and her eyes have been opened to everything she's been missing her whole life; friends, dating, hanging out. Just life outside of her family, really. She's never been able to have her own life before and honestly, she doesn't want to throw it away quite yet. She'll never be able to mould her own life out of the shadow of theirs, so playing normal teenager for a few months before she has to move on again doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

She slips on a pair of flats and checks her watch for the time; Harry should be here at any minute. Sliding out of her and Cassandra's bedroom, she waits in the hallway, looking out of the tiny window by the front door for Harry's car. Sneaking out before her father even realises she's gone seems like the best option because he had always been that little bit stricter than her mother. There had always been that little bit less trust between them. Fathers are always like that, aren’t they?

Allie!" A male voice calls for her from the living room and she rolls her eyes. 

"What?" She shouts back without moving a muscle.

"Come here for a minute."

Groaning under her breath, she walks back to the living room. She leans herself against the doorframe and faces her father, sitting in the fraying armchair they picked up from goodwill, an expectant look on her face.

"What's this your mother is telling me about you going to some fancy dinner party?" He asks, a little too monotonously for Allie's liking. 

"A friend invited me. We aren't staying long, we're just going to hang out for a while," she chews at her glossed lips, the taste of acidic strawberry flavouring stinging in her mouth.

Jim doesn't respond for a second, deep in thought about what he's going to say next. He purses his lips together and scrunches his nose up. "I just don't get it. Why exactly do you want to go to an event like that for?"

She shrugs her shoulders in response. To be honest, she doesn't have much of a reason apart from wanting to see Harry again. Even the thought of it makes her stomach flutter.

"I don't want my daughter being paraded around like some sort of debutante," he half-laughs, the mere thought of it seeming ridiculous to him. "We're not like those people, Allie. You understand that, right?"

"I know."

"I get that you want to fit in at that school, but this is not the way," he shakes his head at her. "Those are the type of people with contacts in god knows where. Once they start prying into your life and they start to get suspicious, they'll be the ones hiring a PI to check if you're good enough to be in their lives. Before you know it, they'll know everything, and your mother and I will be the ones paying for it."

Before Allie can reply, Amanda's voice fills the room from the doorway to the kitchen. She's drying off a pot with a cloth in her hand. "Don't you think you're overreaching a bit there, Jim? Allie's not dumb, she knows what she's doing."

"Allie isn't the one that I don't trust. You know better than anybody what those type of people are like."

Amanda fires back at him without missing a beat. "So, why are you giving her the brunt of it? You can march up to that boy's house and rant about their unjust system of class until you turn blue if you want to, just leave your daughter out of it."

"You seriously agree with this?"

"I trust our daughter enough to know what to do for herself, don't you?" She raises her eyebrow at her husband.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth, not answering the question. Before Allie can talk back to him or do so much as shake her head, the blast of a car horn fills the air.

Allie whips her head around and heads to the window, peeling away the dusty cream curtains that were in the house before they moved in — and judging by the style, had probably been there since the house was built. Harry's car is parked outside, she can see the outline of his body through the tinted windows.

She sucks in a breath and turns back to her father, who has now gotten up from his chair. "So, should I tell him that I can't come?"

She stares into her dad's concerned eyes, but they drift back down to the thick moustache on his upper lip. This is the first time since their conversation started that she actually realised that her dad was worried about her. Sure, he had been rather intense and jumped to several conclusions, but that was because he cared. Maybe the thought of his daughter growing up was just as terrifying to him as being caught. At that moment, she began to feel torn, but, after all, family had to be her priority. She couldn't let her own selfish needs get in the way of what was most important.

There's another blast of the horn from outside, Harry was becoming impatient. Her heart rate accelerates from her chest, feeling stuck between the known and the unknown.  
Jim sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Let's wait for him to come to the door. You can go, but I want to meet him first."

"Okay," She nods, trying to fight off the smirk growing on her face. "I can live with that."

It takes Harry a while to take the hint; he continues to honk for another few minutes. That's until they hear the over-exaggerated slam of a car door from the street and, finally, a knock on the door.

Allie hangs back as Jim head to the door, as he told her to do, peeking around the doorway. She's not even sure if her heart is beating anymore as she tenses up.

It's almost as if Harry is glowing as Jim opens the door. The afternoon sun is burning behind him, illuminating the outline of his body, like he's some sort of angel. Harry Bingham is far from an angel, but that doesn't mean that he isn't still good. The same could be said about the Pressmans.

It's clear that the boy in the doorframe is more civilised than Allie when he offers Jim a handshake. "It's nice to meet you, sir. I'm Harry Bingham, I'm here for Ava."

"You're here for my daughter?" Jim's grip looks strong, Harry almost flinches at it.

"Yes, sir."

"She's in the living room," Jim states, Harry looks back at him with a puzzled expression. Her father steps away from the door and motions for Harry to go past. "After you."

Harry hesitantly walks down the hallway and into the living room, Jim following closely behind. He offers Allie a smile as he reaches her. She bites her lips and crosses her arms against her chest, feeling a wave of awkwardness come over her.

"Can we go now?" Allie asks her father with desperate eyes. Despite his confident exterior, she knows that there's no way Harry feels comfortable right now.

"There's just one thing I need to ask Harry first," Jim begins, and Allie prepares for the worst. "I'm just a bit confused right now. What exactly is this dinner event all about? My daughter didn't do a very good job of explaining it."

Allie notices how her father is always referring to her as his daughter like he's so afraid of saying the wrong name that he won't even give himself the opportunity to get it right. Maybe that's just as suspicious, though.

"My mom, she always invites some friends over every few weeks or so, just people from the community. It's more of a business meeting than anything really, they just try to pretend it isn't," Harry explains, but he isn't really helping her case. Her palms sweat just thinking about going, but it's far too late to turn back now. "You don't have to worry though; we're not staying for dinner. I wouldn't put Ava through that."

"Why invite her then?"

"If I'm honest, sir, I just wanted to see your daughter again as soon as I could."

And there it was, the flutter in her stomach was back. She didn't want her dad to see her blushing, but she couldn't contain the heat rising to her face.

"Have her back by nine," Jim sighs.

Harry smiles over his shoulder to her and goes in for another handshake with Jim. "Okay, sir. It was nice meeting you both," he smiles at Amanda even though she hasn't said a word since he arrived. She had just been watching it all play out from the comfort of the kitchen.

She squeezes her daughter's arm. "Be careful, okay?"

Allie turns to her mother and gives her an understanding nod before following Harry out of the room, and eventually out of the house.

It's a surprisingly temperate day outside. She thought she'd be shivering in her dress as soon as she stepped out of the house, but it's surprisingly okay. Harry's silent as they approach his car. He opens the passenger door for Allie to get in and closes it behind her before getting into the other side of the car.

As soon as his butt touches the seat, she begins to apologise to him. "I'm sorry about my dad," she says, feeling embarrassed. "He can be kind of intense sometimes."

"Don't worry about it," Harry shrugs, that carefree smirk on his face.

"He's just protective. Both of my parents are, actually," she continues, not being able to shut her brain off. "They mean well."

Harry stares back at her with arched brows, almost amused by how much she's worked herself up. "It's okay, really. It's not like he frisked me or anything."

"That's for next time."

He lets out a laugh before putting the car into drive and pulling out from the side of the street. Allie doesn't know how it is to his house, but in a town like West Ham, she knows it won't be too far. Although that's rather comforting, a sense of anxiety still overcomes her.

Harry picks up on this quite quickly, seeing her bounce her leg up and down against the glovebox of the car. He looks over at her with concerned eyes, watching as she chews at her lip while staring out of the window.

"Hey, are you sure you're comfortable with this?" He asks, studying her carefully while still trying to keep his eyes on the road.

"Of course," she shrugs her shoulders. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seem kinda tense, both you and your parents. I don't know, they seemed really worried about you. I was worried in case you had social anxiety or something like that because I don't want to take you anywhere you're going to be uncomfortable."

Allie gulps. Were they acting that weird? Sure, none of them had been socialised very well, but could Harry tell? She begins to feel herself dig her nails into the palm of her hands due to stress. Maybe she was making it obvious, after all.

She releases a slow sigh through pursed lips. "I'm not that great with people, I'll admit that, but I do really want to spend time with you."

"We can go somewhere else if you want," he offers, completely seriously.

"It's okay, really," she smiles at him, but he still looks back at her with concerned eyes. "I mean it, Harry."

He releases a sigh, feeling defeated. "We'll be downstairs for five minutes tops, okay? Then we can hang out."

"Sounds great."

———

Harry's house might as well be a fucking castle to Allie. It seemed as though it was bigger than all of the houses Allie had lived in put together — not that she was being dramatic or anything. It was definitely the biggest in town anyway.

Reality hit her fast as they stepped into the foyer and watched as swarms of people were hanging around talking to each other. This was a small party for him? She knew that they had lived different lives, but this was getting ridiculous. As if she wasn't nervous enough already.

Harry kept to his promise, though. He whisked her around the living room with his arm popped in hers and spoke to a few people. Allie spoke when she was required to, but not any more than that. She was too focused on trying not to blackout with the amount of important looking people floating about around her. She has never been used to authority figures other than her parents, in fact, she had been specifically told not to trust them her whole life, so it's fair to say that this was a little overwhelming. Nevertheless, she smiled politely, avoided personal questions, and let Harry do his thing, and soon enough they were heading upstairs.

Harry's bedroom was almost as impressive as his house altogether. She hadn't known anybody before who had their own living room area within their bedroom before, complete with a pool table and everything. She didn't even have her own room.

He doesn't waste any time before planting a kiss on her lips, grazing her hips with his hands. Allie is almost caught off-guard by this, like the night before, but this time she actually kisses him back. She can feel him smile into the kiss when he realises and his grip tightening on her hips. Although she doesn't quite know what she's doing, it almost feels natural. His lips guide hers and she follows his lead effortlessly.

Kissing him and running her hands through his soft curls is almost blissful for a few moments, but eventually, her mind catches up with her like she knew it inevitably would. And that was a shame because she really liked kissing Harry.

She pulls back, her chest heaving from the lack of oxygen reaching her lungs for the last few minutes. Harry's eyes widen as he shoots back, giving her space.

"I'm sorry," he holds his hands out in front of him like she's some sort of spooked horse he doesn't want to scare. "Did I go too far?"

Allie almost finds it funny because he barely even touched her to begin with. It's nice that he worries about things like that.

"No," she shakes her head, her fight-or-flight instinct kicking in. "It's not you. I'm just— I can't do this, I'm sorry."

She goes to leave, but he grabs his arm to stop her. "Come on, Ava. It's okay, tell me what's wrong."

Using her fake name only enhances her guilt. Harry wants to get to know her and she's lying to his face about everything. He doesn't deserve to be treated like that, no one does. Neither do Kelly, Becca, Sam, and Grizz either. They've been kind enough to let her into their lives and she can't return the favour. The guilt is deafening.

"I'm not an easy person to know, Harry. It's better for you if I'm not in your life at all."

"Well, it's too late for that now, isn't it?" His tone of voice is soft and almost defeated. "I really like you. And I'm not just saying that, I really do."

If he understood maybe he'd agree with her, but there's no way she'll get through to him without having to tell the truth. For Allie, the truth was always harder than mindless lies.  
She holds her tongue, a tense silence filling the room. There's nothing for her to say, no explanation that isn't a bunch of lies. He stares back at her, anticipation in his eyes, but she’s hesitant to say anything.

She decides to say the only thing she can say that isn’t a lie. “I like you too.”

He blinks back at her. "Then what are you so afraid of?" He asks finally.

"You wouldn't understand," is all she can manage.

"Try me," he replies almost immediately. "You don't understand what it's like to lose a parent, but you still listened, didn't you?"

"I can't." It comes out as a whisper, clear confliction in her voice.

She fights back the tears that sting in her eyes, not wanting to worry him even more. He must think it's something bad. She supposes it is bad, but it's not physically harmful to her. She can't even explain herself without lying to his face, that's the worst part. No matter what she says, it's going to be dangerous, and she's not sure that's a risk she can take.

"You're so distant, Ava. One minute I think you're really into me, and the next, I don't know, you seem like you couldn't be less interested." Harry looks frustrated, gripping the roots of his hair with his fingers. "I know nothing about you. Every time I say something that could lead you to telling me something remotely personal, you just shut me down completely."

She doesn't know what to say. How do you tell someone that you have no sense of identity without it being a cause for concern?

He continues when she doesn't answer back. "It's not that hard, you know. Let me try; I hate mushrooms. I wet the bed until I was eight. If you see me with headphones on, I'll most likely be listening to show tunes. I take my little sister out to ice cream every weekend because my mom doesn't give her enough attention. I love snow more than anything in this world. I never cried at my dad's funeral and I still feel guilty about it to this day. I—"

"I can't do this, I'm sorry."

Before it even registers in her brain, she's rushing down the staircase. She can hear Harry calling after her, but she's doesn't so much as look back over her shoulder before she's out of the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is coming out way later than intended so i apologise for that ://  
> this is kind of an intense chapter, a lot of emotions between harry and allie, so i hope you enjoy!  
> i think next chapter will be in harry's perspective so that'll be cool.   
> again, i'd like to thank everyone for reading, we've just hit 300 views which is really exciting :))


	5. 05

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on Running on Empty (1988)

It was safe to say that Harry Bingham wasn't looking forward to going back to school on Monday morning. 

He groaned and rolled over onto his back, the sound of his phone alarm assaulting his eardrums. No matter how far he buried his head under the sheets or pillows, he could still hear it drilling into his brain.

"Fuck!" He grunts finally, tearing the sheets off himself and hitting the off button on the alarm. Finally, some quiet, but it's too late because he's already wide awake.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he grabs his phone from the nightstand to catch up on anything he might've since the night before. He has a few messages; one from Kelly checking in on how his family is, another from Gwen discussing his little sister's gymnastics meet this weekend, one from Campbell telling him that he's blowing off school for the day to get out of presenting something in English class, and finally a few snapchats from a group chat with some of the guys, Clark sending videos of him high telling them all how much he loves them and such. The usual stuff, really.

Even though he knows she doesn't have a phone or any social media, which he still thinks is strange, he still wishes that one of the notifications on his phone is from Allie. Or Ava as he would call her. He's completely oblivious to what's going on in her life, but he still has his guard up hoping that one day he'll be able to find out.

He scuffs his feet on the flooring as he heads to his bathroom to get himself ready. It doesn't take long; the shower water scalds his skin making him wash quickly, and he finds something to wear in no time at all. He actually finds time to eat breakfast this morning, that's pretty rare for him.

There's something about the upstairs hallway that unsettles him each time he's there. He finds himself creeping past his parents' bedroom, sucking in a breath until he passes. The energy there has been unsettling since his dad died, there in that bed with the rest of the family by his bedside. The same bed that his mom has probably fucked Gary Aldrich in multiple times since. Just the thought of it alone makes him feel sick to his stomach.

In the kitchen, he's surprised to see his mom standing over the hob making pancakes. Lucy is sitting at the island, slumped over a book, entranced by the words on the pages. He ruffles her hair as he passes, offering her a smile that is returned but only for a second until she continues on reading.

He passes Karen, head down to avoid eye contact, and grabs a cup from the cupboard — a to-go cup so he can leave as soon as his coffee is made. He places it under the nozzle of the coffee machine and presses the button to turn it on. The machine starts to hum, the water beginning to heat inside and he heads to the fridge to find the creamer for his coffee.

The fridge is pretty empty, no one has had much of an appetite in months so they don't buy much. Even though the visibility in the fridge is good due to the lack of filled space, he still can't see the creamer anywhere.

He releases a sigh, turning towards his mother who is decorating Lucy's pancakes with chopped up strawberries. "Where's the creamer?" he asks, his voice flat.

Karen turns, almost surprised that her son is talking to her. "We're out. I'll get more at the store this afternoon." She tuts at him. "Maybe you should cut down on the coffee, that bottle only lasted a week."

He slams the fridge door shut, the entire kitchen shaking with the force of it. Even Lucy flinches, looking up from her book with wide eyes.

"I didn't ask for a fucking lecture."

By this point, the nozzle of the coffee machine is spewing out the brown syrupy mixture into the cup. He goes back over and waits for it to finish.

Karen's voice returns, weak and disapproving. "Don't talk like that in front of your sister."

Harry laughs, turning around to face her to make sure she's being serious. "Because you're a great role model, right enough."

Lucy doesn't quite know about the affair, not explicitly, but she knows something is up. She always asks why Harry and his mother don't get along anymore and why she never   
sees Kelly and her family, but Harry wants to protect her from that for as long as he can. Everything has been so hard for her as it is without her finding out about that too.

Once his cup is full, he stirs in some sugar and twists the lid back on until it's as tight as he can get it.

"At least have something to eat," his mom tells him, sliding a plate of pancakes towards him.

He ignores her, clasping the cup of coffee against his chest. He leans against the counter, with his back to her, and looks to Lucy. "Do you need a ride to school, kiddo?"

She nods, a smile rising to her face. She had always hated taking the bus, Harry did too before he got his license. She finishes off the rest of her pancakes and slides out from her stool.

"Let's go then," he says, grabbing her backpack from the floor for her and leading her out of the kitchen with his arm placed on her back.

Lucy says a quick goodbye to her mother, but her older brother doesn't do the same. He just grabs his car keys from the hallway and leads her out into the garage.

Harry throws both of their backpacks onto the back seat and gets into the driver's side. Lucy is already buckled up in the passenger's seat, going through the radio stations to find a song she likes for the short drive to the middle school.

The garage door opens and Harry pulls out into the driveway, stopping to make sure it shuts behind them before pulling out into the street.

Harry, who normally pushes the speed limit when he can, drives slower than usual because it's so so early. He doesn't want Lucy hanging about for ages with no one to talk to. He takes a sip of his coffee and puts it back in the cupholder.

She turns to him, her voice weak. "I hate it when you and Mom fight."

"I do too," he sighs at her, feeling immensely guilty. "I especially hate it when you have to witness it. I'm sorry, Lucy."

"Why do you still do it then? Can't you guys just stop?"

He doesn't know what to say to that. She's young, she doesn't really understand these sorts of things yet. She still thinks her mother is a saint, and even though he doesn't think he'll ever forgive her for what she did, he doesn't want to ruin that illusion for her. His mother is still hurting like they are, it wouldn't be fair to turn her other child against her.

"I wish it was that easy, I really do, but when you grow up, things get complicated, okay? There are some things you don't understand quite yet."

As he speaks, his mind casts back to his conversation with Allie. It's like he had parroted her words from the other day. It's almost hypocritical how he's feeding his sister the same bullshit that she was. And that got him thinking; he was hiding all of this from his sister to protect her, so what was Allie trying to protect him from? It just didn't make sense to him.

What she says next feels like a sharp pain to Harry's chest. "Dad always knew how to get you to stop arguing."

She was right, maybe if their dad was still here then they'd be civil enough. But, the thing was, if his dad hadn't gotten sick then he wouldn't have a reason to resent his mom. Sure, they had silly inconvenient arguments pretty regularly before, but it was never anything major. His father always knew how to stop them before either of them said anything they regretted. Now, they could go at it for hours without anyone standing in their way. It's not like either of them would listen to Lucy if she attempted to mediate them.

"Mom and I, we're too alike. We're destined to butt head every once in a while," he looks over at her, her mood has completely dropped since she mentioned their father. "You're more like Dad, you're lucky like that."

"You think so?" Her eyes light up as she speaks.

He grins at her. "For sure."

———

By his lunch period, Harry was hiding under the bleachers of the football field with Jason and Clark, trying to hide the smoke from the joint they were passing around between themselves.

Harry had grown immune to the numbing effects of marijuana. He never quite got the same buzz that he did before, but he still continued to smoke it, hoping that maybe that feeling would return. He still felt numb, but a completely different type of numb; instead of all of his worries escaping through his mouth with nothing more than a puff of smoke, the same worries made him feel so much that he felt nothing at all. Not even the most powerful drug could help with that.

One of those worries came in the form of Allie Pressman — the girl he couldn't get out of his mind no matter how hard he tried. Ever since that night in his room, he had been trying to decipher every single word she had said to him with few results. The air of mystery that surrounded her sucked him in and he couldn't seem to find a way out. She was a puzzle that he needed to solve, even if she didn't want him to.

There's a heavy thud on his shoulder and he snaps back to reality.

"Harry! Do you want it or not, dude?" Jason exclaims, the joint outstretched towards Harry.

"Oh shit, yeah," he takes it from him, bringing it to his mouth and inhaling deeply. He attempts to make conversation with them, the smoke escaping with his words. "It's good shit."

Hanging out with Jason and Clark alone would never be his first choice. If Grizz or Luke were there too, sure, but something about this exchange feels off. Normally he'd be here with Campbell, but, due to his absence, that just wasn't a choice today. Jason was the only other person in school he knew was guaranteed to have weed on his person, and he was right. So, he didn't mind having to deal with their mind-numbingly dumb bro talk for the duration of lunch, if that meant he got what he wanted.

"Of course, it's good shit! Who do you think I am?" Jason retorts, pride in his voice.

"You're a fucking stoner, that's what you are!" Clark high fives him, a wide grin spreading across Jason's face, like it's something to be proud of. Then again, Harry couldn't pass any judgement onto him because he was the one with the blunt in his hand right now.

He takes in another puff before passing it to Clark, who had been looking at him with lips spread apart, waiting for Harry to be done with his turn like some sort of impatient child. A child with pretty severe marijuana dependence, sure, but a child nonetheless.

Harry listens as the other two start to talk; giggling and slurring their words like a couple of school girls. He doesn't pay much attention to what they're saying, instead, he starts to zone out. Maybe it was the high or maybe what Jason and Clark had to say was just incredibly fucking boring. Either way, Harry's brain clearly wasn't interested.

There's something so tranquil about sitting underneath the bleachers; the light streaming through the gaps in streaks, the tall grass underneath that the groundskeepers never bother to mow because they don't think anybody actually goes under there. It's a quiet spot -- when he's not with Dumb and Dumber, of course -- that really feels like his escape from all the bullshit that comes with high school. The fact that he was leaving for college in the fall was the only reason he could see himself actually getting through the year. Well, that and... you know, certain people.

His tranquility is short-lived when the sound of a girl's voice is heard behind him. It makes both Jason and Clark whip their heads around, a mutual amused smirk on their faces.

"Harry!" The voice calls. He half-expects it to be Allie, recognising it as a new voice, but the clear-cut tone and air of confidence in her voice indicate that it's that of her sister.  
He's almost disappointed as he turns his head to see Cassandra standing there, hand on hip, clutching a navy binder against her chest.

She doesn't beat around the bush, in typical Cassandra fashion. "I need to borrow your history notes," she says, not so much of an ask but more of a demand.

"Fucking hell, again?" Harry rolls his eyes at her. "Don't you have a life?"

"I need to brush up on the French Revolution."

He scoffs at her. "And that's my problem because?"

This is when Jason decides to join in — which is always a mistake. "Hey, don't talk to the lady like that!" He tries to defend Cassandra, an attempt at looking chivalrous.

Cassandra snaps back without missing a beat, standing her ground. "The lady can speak for herself, thank you very much."

She spits the word lady like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth. Even Harry knows that was a bad move on Jason's behalf. He would never expect Cassandra to be light on feminism, and he was right.

"That's you told, Jace!" Clark laughs at his best friend, but he soon stops when Jason punches his shoulder, leaving Clark wincing in pain.

Harry turns back to face Cassandra, his eyebrows raised. He wouldn't expect her to know where the stoner hangout is, or that he is technically a part of said group.

"How did you even find me?" He asks, genuinely interested.

"Jesus, I can smell that shit from a mile away," she scoffs at him like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "You're not as sneaky as you think, Bingham."

"Apparently so."

He shrugs his shoulders at her and turns back, hoping she'll leave him alone. Cassandra reminded him of Allie, and he didn't want to think about Allie right now.

Cassandra had never been someone to give up that easily, though. She stomps her foot into the ground, quite literally standing her ground.

"Can I use them or not?" She repeats, not giving up.

"Knock yourself out," he replies monotonously, not moving a muscle.

"Well, are you going to give me them?"

"They're in my locker."

"Okay, let's got get them."

He finally sighs and gives up, rising to his feet. He shoots Cassandra a glare which she only reacts to with a smug smirk.

"I'll see you guys later," he tells Jason and Clark, who is already back to smoking the joint without a care in the world.

He treads after Cassandra, who obviously has to lead the way, scuffing his feet along the freshly-cut grass of the football field. Being back in an open and exposed area, a chill runs through his body making him shiver into his jacket. Cassandra looks unfazed by the freezing cold wind as she struts across the field. Unlike her sister, she never seemed to be fazed by, well, anything.

She slows down, deep in thought, letting him catch up with her. He's skeptical at first, wondering what she has to say that makes her pull the contemplative expression on her face.

She turns to him, inhaling a little. "I know we have this whole back-and-forth rivalry thing going on and don't get me wrong, I like how things are, but can I ask you something? You know, as a friend."

"Oh, we're friends now, are we?"

"And here's me trying to be courteous," she shakes her head.

Harry, who has had his fun, looks back at her with sincere eyes. A complete shift. "Go ahead. Ask me whatever you want."

"What's going on between you and my little sister?"

And there it is. He should've seen it coming, but his and Cassandra's relationship had been nothing more than strictly work-based, and he didn't realise that had changed. Had Allie told her about him? Did she ask her to do this?

"God, Chloe, shouldn't you be asking her yourself?" He grumbles, getting defensive.

"She won't talk to me. At least not about stuff like that," she holds her hands up in defeat. She's just as curious as he is.

Cassandra being just as in the dark as he is isn't as comforting as he would've thought it would be. Allie hasn't talked about him which must mean that she doesn't care enough. Or she cares too much that she can't get it out. He's leaning more towards the first option.

"Well, that makes two of us."

Cassandra stops in her tracks, coming to a complete stop. Harry keeps walking without realising that she's actually come to a halt.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She calls after him without moving.

"Exactly what you said." He replies, stopping and looking over his shoulder at her. He's sick of talking about Allie, so he changes the subject. "Do you want the notes or not?"

"Actually, I think I'm good."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I think I get the just." She looks distraught, in a way Harry had never seen Cassandra before. It's almost worrying. She turns on her heel, waving him off. "I'll see you in algebra."

"Thanks for wasting my time!" He calls after her, not knowing if he's pretending to be annoyed to piss her off or if he's actually annoyed.

"It was a pleasure!" She shouts back, her sarcastic flair returning. The sincerity didn't last long, anyway.

———

It's Thursday afternoon by the time Harry hears from Allie again. After awkward eye contact in the hallway or in the cafeteria with little results, he finds a note in his locker. It floats onto the floor as he opens the locker to put his algebra textbook away. He feels like some kind of rom-com protagonist, finding a note in his locker and blushing over it, but as he unfolds the note and opens it up, he's almost terrified of what's in store.

Meet me under the bleachers @ midnight

There's something ominous about the whole thing. It seems like a note that could be from Allie, sure, but also could very well pass as a note from someone who wants to hurt him. If you think about it — the secluded space, the late hour — it seemed like the perfect time to get Harry alone. Whether that was to talk to him or not... well, only time would tell.

He got there five minutes early, shivering into his hoodie. In hindsight, he probably should've thrown on a jacket, but his head was too scattered to even think about grabbing one before he left.

The cloud of breath in the freezing cold air was his first indication of Allie's arrival. His heart seemed to stop beating for a few seconds as she came into view, assuring him that it was actually her and not someone coming to murder him.

She looked good, and more equipped for the weather than he was. She was drowned by a puffer jacket with a colour-block pattern on it and a bobble hat, her hands stuffed into her jacket pockets for extra heat.

When she noticed him, she pulled her lips into a line. An attempt at a smile. Even that small smile caused his face to stretch into a grin without his permission.

"Hey, I—" he began, wanting to tell her that he was happy to see her again. Glad that they're getting the chance to talk.

She cuts him off before he can even try. There's a sense of urgency in her voice that Harry is taken aback by. "I just need to get this out before I talk myself out of it, okay? I just... I need to explain myself."

If he wasn't worried before, he definitely was now. He gulps down the words he had prepared and lets her begin.

"Okay, go ahead."

She takes in a breath like the next thing she has to say is going to be a mouthful.

"I'm not who you think I am. I don't know who that is exactly, but I'm not her," she sounds desperate almost. Like her head is so full that there's not any room for her thoughts to escape from. "I'm not even sure who I am, I've honestly never been able to find that out."

"This is making no sense," he admits, trying to make sense of her words and not even getting close to figuring it out.

She sucks in a breath through her teeth, the silence between them deafening to both of them. There's a stillness in the air, like the calm before a storm.

"My name isn't Ava Brown, or whatever it is you know me as, it's Allie Pressman." She breathes out so quickly that Harry has to do a double-take to try and process the information. "I know that's a lot to take in already, but, trust me, that's going to be the least crazy thing you hear tonight."

Taking another deep breath, she continues. "My parents, Jim and Amanda Pressman, they're in trouble with the FBI for blowing up a military building in 2002. We've been on the run ever since, all of us. We never stay in one place too long, we're always changing identities. And that's why I couldn't talk to you about anything, there was nothing I could tell you that wouldn't be a lie. I'm sorry, Harry."

He blinks in response. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I know it's crazy, but—"

"You're right, it is," he cuts her off, shaking his head in disbelief. "It's crazy how you've made up all of this shit so you don't have to open up to me. It's okay if you don't want to, really. You don't owe me anything. Just please don't fucking mock me like that."

Allie is silent, her mouth open and eyebrows furrowed. She blinks back at him, at his reaction to what she had just told him. He doesn't believe her, he thinks it's just another excuse.

"Harry—"

Once again, he's dismissive of what she has to say. "Seriously, I don't want to hear it."

He locks eyes with her, giving her a disapproving look as he shoves past her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been looking forward to writing the last scene for a while so i'm happy to get this chapter out !!  
> hope you enjoy :))


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